Powerful Stuff

I am a square.

I am a square. At the time of my first shroom trip I was a mechanical engineering major in college. I didn't use many drugs, other than beer and the occasional joint. I was of the opinion that a sober mind is the best mind, knowledge and logic are the most human of all traits, and that reality is what we see every day. Shrooms rocked my world.

Although I was/am a square, I was an experimental square, so when 8 of my druggier friends agreed to get some shrooms, it didn't take a lot of convincing for me to join. The day the shrooms arrived everyone was excited. But I was really keyed up. So I convinced a few buddies to walk into town and have a few beers. When I returned, the shrooms had just arrived and were being rationed out. I ate the shrooms with an empty stomach except for the 4 lagers in me. That and my excited state cranked up normally fast metabolism even more. Everybody munched their shrooms and I prepared for the games to begin.

I didn't have to wait long. After eating them, I threw darts for about 15 minutes, then decided to take a dump. As I sat on the throne, I noticed subtle changes in my vision and movements. Everything was taking on a strange crispness. But the biggest effect so far was the shit-eating grin I simply couldn't get off my face. I finished up in the bathroom before things really kicked in (thank God, that could have been ugly), and joined my friends outside on a beautiful spring afternoon. Several of my friends had shroomed before, and one in particular knew some of the tricks of the trade. We formed a casual triangle and began throwing a neon pink Frisbee around. By this time my visual senses were amazing. The sight of that neon pink Frisbee flying over the vibrant green grass blew me away. I had tears rolling down my face from laughing so hard. Since the only drug I ever got fucked up on before was alcohol, I was shocked that I could feel so high, yet still have enough coordination to catch that Frisbee. It felt like I had all the good, and none of the bad. The Frisbee game didn't last for long as it was too hard to keep your mind on it. I remember staring at a large maple tree in the yard. Utterly dumbfounded by it's size and beauty. It's roots diving deep into the soil. The bark churning before my eyes. The mere fact that it was probably over 100 years old left me with a sense of awe. Everything I saw and touched and smelled took on a deep and personal meaning. The vibrant, crisp colors felt like I was in a cartoon. It was as if everything around me had purposely and painstakingly been placed exactly where it was. Everything was exactly where it should be. In fact, it had always been there. It was perfection.

And just when I thought that things couldn't possibly get any better, they did. Just when I thought I was as high as a person can get, it got more intense. My mind was racing. One crazy thought lead to another and another. They pulled me down on a mental spiral so compelling that I stopped being able to talk, and soon I stopped being able to move. All I could do was stand there, stare at the beer in my hand without seeing it, and let my mind travel to these strange new places. Reality, infinity, consciousness, life, universes within universes, these are some of the things I was pursuing in my mind. I was literally losing my mind, couldn't remember my age, my parents. It felt like I was always there, standing in that yard. School was gone, the idea of classes was ridiculous. Everything I ever needed or ever would need was already with me. I was quite certain that I would never eat, shit, sleep, or fuck again. There was no need. My physical body was gone now. I existed completely in my own mind, and that had traveled to an entirely different universe.

Of course my friends tortured me, as any good friends would. At the worst (best) of it, all I can remember is several eternities would pass, then a friend’s face would pop in view and tell me I’ve lost it. Then a couple more eternities, and another face would pop in and tell me I was scaring the shit out of them. Another eternity or two, and then another face. This went on for a trillion years until someone managed to get me inside and into an armchair. At this point I was scared. My mind was shattered. I could hear and understand everything going on around me, but I was unable to speak. All the while my mind kept spiraling downward into new universes, new realities. All I could do was tenaciously cling to my last bit of sanity, and hang on for the ride. This was too much. I consider this part the bad part.

At some point the downward spirals stopped, and the upward spirals started. It was as if I was retracing my mental path. I would stumble upon an idea that I had already thought about centuries before, and laugh to myself at where that thought lead. As I was returning to this world, my pace quickened. I was climbing upwards. I remembered my age, my name, my parents. Finally, with a room full of shroomers, I stood up and said “Wow, that was fucked up. I didn’t do anything strange, did I?” The night got good again. We all laughed as my friends told me they were seriously considering calling an ambulance and having me hauled away. I felt a sense of peace and accomplishment, and understanding like I’ve never felt before or since. I felt like I knew THE SECRET. I felt like I owned the world. When I went to bed that night I was sure that I’d never be the same person again.

Unfortunately, the shroom experience faded over time. But I still carry some of it around with me. I now look at the world as a much more mysterious and beautiful place than it was before. That night was nothing short of a religious experience. I haven’t done shrooms in over 4 years, but I think about them from time to time. I’ve always wanted to grow them myself, and try to regain that feeling. Maybe someday. I do know two things. One, everyone should try shrooms at least once. Two, I will never be able to look at fractal art and not think, “Oh ya, I was there.”